


Not Over Yet

by mokuyoubi



Series: Games [2]
Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/pseuds/mokuyoubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the same universe as Games You Never Lose, about three months down the road.  Pure smutty fluffy ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Over Yet

Matt was behind—he was always behind, feet dragging. Sweat ran in rivulets down McClane’s neck and Matt licked his lips, wishing that white wife beater wasn’t in the way so he could see the droplets trickling down McClane’s back, gathering in that place he loved so much. Fingers against the base of John’s spine, in comfort, in possession, urging him on faster and harder. Waking John with his tongue there, making him tense, “not gonna happen,” voice playful, hands sleep warm.

_Get it together Matt, this is not the time for that._ He dropped into a half crouch, panting, bracing his hands on his knees. His muscles alternately burned, or felt like rubber, his chest was tight, and he was starting to see little white spots around the edge of his vision. 

“Come on, kid,” McClane said, in that affectionate, yet somehow chiding way. “Just a couple more blocks, and we’re home free.” 

“Heh,” Matt laughed…or, maybe wheezed was the more proper term for it. “Dude, I don’t know why I let you talk me into this shit.” 

“Probably the same reason I let you get away with calling me ‘dude,’” McClane shot back with a cheeky smile that made Matt’s stomach drop in a very nice way. 

“Couple more blocks, huh?” Matt asked, starting to feel like himself again. He looked John up and down. “And then what do I get?” 

“The satisfaction of knowing you’re not quite the wimp you were when we began,” McClane said, deadpan. 

“Not the kind of satisfaction I had in mind.” Matt tossed back his hair and gave his best alluring smirk, standing up and stepping closer. 

“Hey, not out here, kid,” McClane muttered. He put a hand to Matt’s chest and gave him a little shove. Matt pushed back, because he was always pushing John. Their relationship would never work if he just gave. He pushed, and John relented, because what he said and what he meant weren’t always the same. He was pretty honest about most things, but not necessarily where Matt was concerned. 

Matt pushed up on his toes, licked his tongue over John’s lips and fell back on his heels, grinning. “I’m gonna kick your ass,” McClane told him, matter-of-factly, that dangerous smile he got when he was about to kill someone on his face. 

“Gotta catch me first,” Matt teased, and pushed off John’s chest. He spun on his heel and ran full tilt down Bedford, dodging lost tourists and street vendors. He hooked the corner onto Fifth, made another turn on Berry and headed north on Seventh. He could hear John close behind him and fumbled in his pocket for the keys, not willing to waste any time. 

Matt got up the stairs, and got his key in the door, turned, pushed open, before John caught him up, knocking him sprawling across the floor of the hallway. “Never,” McClane panted, “try to out run me, kid.” 

Matt shoved himself up on his wrists, tossed back his sweaty hair. He kicked off his shoes and toed off his socks, drew his foot up the inside of John’s calf. He felt a little reckless, maybe thanks to the adrenaline, or maybe because he was about to pass out, or a little bit of both. He hefted himself up on the stairs on his elbows, three up, before John was on him, fists balled in Matt’s shirt. 

John kissed as dirty as he fought and Matt clung to him. Every time they kissed, Matt felt like John was saving him all over again, from his boring, meaningless existence. And maybe it was stupid, maybe anyone else would roll their eyes, but John was right about the satisfaction. Matt was sore and loose all over, but it was good. 

Matt opened his legs and John fell between them with a grunt, their groins meeting. Matt swivelled his hips playfully and John bit his bottom lip, grabbed him by the hips and pinned him down, grinding. Matt turned his head away from the kiss, but John wasn’t deterred, sucking kisses down Matt’s jaw and neck, nibbling at his ear. Matt reached between their bodies, tugging at John’s waistband. 

“In my pocket,” Matt said, between breaths. 

John leaned back and took Matt’s track shorts by the bottoms and tugged. Matt lifted himself enough to let them go and John fished in the pocket. “You took this _running_ with us?” John demanded in disbelief, holding up the lube and tossing the shorts aside. 

“Never know when you might need it,” Matt answered, tonguing his lip suggestively. 

“That why you’re not wearing any underwear?” John asked. 

Matt shrugged and gave his lover a coy look. “I might have agreed to this whole experiment with a few expectations…”

John squeezed a generous amount of the goo onto his fingers and crouched over Matt again. He spread the stuff with his thumb and Matt opened his legs wider, hooking them over John’s shoulders. John shoved in two fingers all at once, all the way, making Matt groan and drop his head on the step above him with a heavy thump. 

“Shit, shit, could you take it _easy_?” Matt managed to hiss, around gritted teeth. 

“Told you I was gonna kick your ass,” John reminded him, curving his fingers and pulling, hitting just the right spot to make the pleasure pulse more brightly than the pain. 

“Pound my ass is more like it,” Matt laughed. 

John groaned at the poor excuse for humour. “What do I have to do to get you to shut the fuck up?” 

Matt dropped one leg, hooked it around McClane’s waist instead. “I think we both know the answer to that,” he murmured. 

John fucked him like it was a whole ‘nother work out. A gradual warm up with his fingers, stretching and loosening the muscles, til Matt felt _really_ good, but in an expectant sort of way. John wasn’t the sort to always take the time, often just plunging right in, and that was good, too, better than, but a change of pace never hurt. And when Matt was ready, almost straining to go, that’s when John’s cock replaced his fingers in a slow steady burn. 

Matt contented himself to letting John do the work, moving his hips lazily to meet John’s every other thrust. John made these little groaning, grunting sounds that were so decidedly masculine and sexual that Matt’s spine tingled every time he heard them, and he got harder, and John was making them in his ear right now, biting so hard on Matt’s neck there would be a chain of purple spots within minutes. Matt was generally happy to work at home, but every once in a while he wished he had someplace he could go to show off the hickeys. 

“Hey, kid,” John panted, “workout ain’t over,” and he moved, exercising that impressive strength of his. He turned them til he was seated on the stair and Matt was straddling him. John slapped him hard on the outside of his thigh, making Matt yelp. “Giddy up.” 

This was one work out Matt would _never_ mind. He rocked forward onto his knees and wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders, hands gripping the base of John’s slick skull and clasped him into one hard kiss after another. He kept his movements fast and tight, til his thighs were burning with the effort and his knees were raw from sliding on the carpet. Matt got there first, muscles clenched in anticipation and releasing all at once, biting hard on John’s shoulder. 

John slid them down to the floor of the hallway together, Matt getting little shivers and aftershocks all the while. He picked up the pace again, holding Matt’s hips in a bruising grip. It didn’t take him long to follow; he wasn’t trying to make it last. 

The cool down consisted of soft strokes down Matt’s spine and fingers in his hair, pulling his head back. Their lips met in a languid dance. Matt felt pleasantly gooey and boneless, sprawled on his back, half on the rug, half on the hardwood floor, but completely comfortable. He traced swirling patterns with his tongue over one his favourite parts of John, the dip between collarbone and sloping shoulder, and tasted the tang of sweat. 

Only after a while, the come on his stomach began to harden, and monogamy was nice, and it made it particularly good for spur of the moment stair sex, but after a moment, Matt was reminded of why a condom wasn’t a particularly bad thing. He grimaced and shifted his hips and John pulled out, which was accompanied by the hot rush of come leaking down Matt’s thigh. 

“Ew.” Matt made a face. John pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand to pull him up. “Showering, _right now_.” Matt reached between his legs catching most of the thick liquid before it could drip to the floor. “ _Ew_.” 

John chuckled and smacked Matt's ass on the way up the stairs, making him run up the last few stairs and down the hallway to the bath. 


End file.
